


5 (Strange) Places Jack Had Sex in the Hub

by apodiopsys



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 17:40:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/384115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apodiopsys/pseuds/apodiopsys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jack sleeps with Owen once and Ianto at least four times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	5 (Strange) Places Jack Had Sex in the Hub

**Author's Note:**

> fill from the twelfth of April at comment-fic on lj under the kink prompts.

**Autopsy Room.**

Really, he wasn’t to know when Owen sprayed him with that - with whatever piece of alien technology that they hadn’t gotten around to naming yet which made Jack _want_ him like he was in heat.

“Didn’t know -” Owen says, all while trying to back away from Jack. It isn’t working, long limbed and equipped with a stamina from the 51st century, Jack climbs him like a tree, fingertips tucked into his hair while he kisses him deep. “Wasn’t thinking -”

His arm flails out and he knocks over a tray with scalpels and syringes and medical scissors, but neither of them notice when they go clattering to the floor. The good news is that for once, they don’t have a dead body - human or alien - on hand, so the autopsy table is clean and empty and ideal, so Jack pushes Owen down and gets to work on his pants. 

**The Main Entrance.**

The first time they have sex is in the middle of the day. Jack has a weevil in the back of the truck and a small cut above his left eye; he comes through the door with a crash and a bang in very typical Jack Harkness fashion and says to Ianto, “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” 

There’s a sheen of sweat on his skin, and even while being kissed stupid by him Ianto’s brain supplies him with _51st century pheromones explains the way he smells right now_. Jack crowds him up so that he’s perched against the desk, leg spread so that he can stand in the space between his thighs. Leaning forward, one of his hands cups Ianto’s jaw and the other drops to prop himself up against the desk, unintentionally landing on the keyboard so that there’s a never ending _fffffffffffjfffffjfkf_ going into the search engine. 

And it’s really, _really_ bad luck when the front door opens and a middle aged tourist couple walk in to see their positions switched, Jack bent over the desk and spread open with Ianto bottoming out inside of him. 

**Holding Cells.**

In hindsight, it’s probably a little weird that they’re having sex up against a plexiglass wall while there are weevils on the other side of said plexiglass wall. But the thing is, he has Ianto, shirtless but wearing a tie and his suit jacket, kissing him too wet with clicking teeth and he has his fingers thick and purposeful and filling him up so good. 

“The cameras -” he arches when Ianto’s fingers twist viciously and then withdraw, only so that he can lift Jack up and get him to wrap his legs around his waist. 

“Disabled.” His hand slips against the glass and the fingers of the other squeeze Jack too tight, but then he’s sliding in and deep and it’s a stretch that burns more than his fingers and Jack is moaning appreciatively. “Besides,” Ianto says, voice an octave deeper. “Thought you were all for making a sex tape.”

**The Invisible Lift.**

Ianto gets zapped by a piece of alien technology ( _”Christ, I told you not to touch it. What do you do? You touch it.”_ ) and seems to be okay for the first thirty four minutes after. The thirty fifth minute occurs when they’re walking to the lift pad, and Jack suddenly has an armful of Ianto, mouthing at his neck and skin feverish hot. 

“Want you,” he’s gasping, “Now. Want you now,” and he’s pushing Jack onto the pad and through the perception filter so that he’s practically sprawled across it. His elbows are skinned from where they scrape across the rock, but Ianto’s in his lap, fingers surprisingly nimble as they undo his belt for a man so desperate he’s almost gagging for it. Jack doesn’t understand how, but Ianto is already slick and open when he reaches back and guides him in. 

There’s a moment where he tips his head back, lost in the way Ianto’s moving on top of him and Jack grips his hips hard enough to leave evidence that would be good for fingerprinting. Myfanwy flies by, circles around the ceiling and he can see where the walls are moving and in all, the effect is dizzying. 

**Jack’s Office.**

Enabling his office kink really isn’t the best idea he’s ever had, because it’s just encouraging Jack to ask for all of these things that just aren’t appropriate for a workplace. After hours is one thing, when it’s just him and Ianto and Jack can pretend that all Ianto exists for is to make phonecalls and bring coffee to his boss (which isn’t actually much of a difference to his real job), oh, and also to seduce up against the photocopier. 

It’s another thing when Ianto’s on his knees in the well under his desk, going down on him enthusiastically while Tosh tells him about how there’s an unusual amount of rift activity and shouldn’t they be taking a look at it? He traces a figure eight across the underside of Jack’s cock and then sucks slowly on the head, tongue pressing just under the crown. 

Jack glances down at him and Ianto catches his eye, and with his cock resting hot and heavy on his tongue, he dares him silently to make a noise.


End file.
